


No Promises

by belle1316



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gendrya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belle1316/pseuds/belle1316
Summary: Arya had chosen to live before she died. She hadn't expected living would feel so good. Collection of Gendrya fics for Season 8 and beyond.





	1. Ch. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya reflects on her night with Gendry before the dead arrive.

She didn’t remember falling asleep. She just remembered laying across from Gendry, not knowing how to respond to the way he looked at her. She expected that he would be joking or arrogant after they had sex. But he had looked at her with such tenderness, she was not prepared for. She watched his chest rise and fall. Maybe she hadn’t been ready, it was rushed, impulsive, but she wouldn’t regret it. Laying with Gendry was everything she had hoped it would be, more than she could have imagined. She could have been jealous of the three women he had before her, but she was grateful for his experience. Now that she knew and understood one of the pleasures life had to offer, it would be so painful to walk out onto the battlefield and have it all end. She turned her head away from Gendry, her eyes found the door.  
She thought it would just be sex. She thought it would stop her from feeling, but now she felt everything. She hadn’t realized that her interactions with Gendry were slowly bringing her humanity back. She hadn’t realized that she actually cared for him again. Now, this act had opened the floodgates and everything she had been pushing away came back. She remembered who she was and thought of what could have been. With nothing left to do but face the fact that she could die in her home that night, she stared at the entrance of the room where the darkness of night was taunting her.  
Maybe she should have been spending time with Sansa, Jon, and Bran instead of thinking of herself.  
No, she deserved to be selfish. She deserved to find out what it felt like to be a young girl, without a care in the world, giving in to her desires, and laying with a handsome young man.  
Besides her family didn’t really know her. They didn’t know what she was like after their father died. Gendry knew apart of it at least. He had been there during the awkward years when she had to hide her identity, as a girl, as a person from the world. He had made her feel beautiful. It was something she never thought she could feel, something she thought she didn’t need to feel, and it felt good. She could have laughed at herself. She was more complex than she thought.  
She had been so focused on her hatred, her revenge, survival, that she had never stopped to even wonder what life would have been like. There were many things over the years she could find herself regretting. No, she would not die with regrets.  
“Are you alright?”  
Gendry’s voice startled her. She looked back at him to see his blue eyes gazing at her.  
“I’m fine.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Arya rolled on her side to face him better.  
“You could tell me if you didn’t-” he continued with the expression that she had come to know as one he had when he was at a loss for words. “I thought it was incredible but if you didn’t like it.”  
“I liked it.”  
He looked almost looked like that young boy on the Kingsroad again. “Really?’  
Arya nodded, “It was incredible.”  
“Was it your first?”  
Arya scoffed. “Did you just catch on?”  
“No, I mean, I figured. You just really seemed to know what you were doing.”  
She shrugged, “Natural talent I suppose.”  
Gendry stared at her for a second before releasing a laugh.  
“There is no one like you, Arya Stark.”  
Arya gave him a small smile before running a hand through her hair. It had come undone when Gendry had yanked her head down to kiss her during the second time.  
She tried to remember the last time she wore it down, was it Bravos? It had grown since then.  
“What does this mean?”  
Arya raised her eyes to meet his. She knew what he was asking.  
“Do you really want to get into all that now?”  
He took her hand in his.  
“There’s been something between us since I arrived. I could feel it. That can’t have been all in my head.”  
Arya sighed, “No you’re right.” Still, the fact that she acknowledged there was something more between them didn’t mean she wanted to discuss it.  
“This wasn’t just a fuck I needed to get out, not for me.”  
Arya raised herself up, bringing her knees to her chest still covered with his cloak.  
“I want more.” He rose with her, wrapping his arm around her middle. The tenderness in his eyes was back. She could feel something stir within her. Not the overwhelming lust she had felt hours earlier but something sweeter. Damn him. She felt like those blue eyes could see through her now. Now that they knew her as no one else did.  
“A girl could fall in love if you look at her like that.” She tried to joke.  
The intensity of his gaze did not waver. “It’d be easy to fall in love with you, Arya Stark.”  
Her heart stopped. She opened her mouth to say something but could not find her voice.  
Gendry must have sensed she was about to panic.  
“We’re not there yet. I know. It’s not quite love yet. But I promise-”  
“No,” Arya shook her head and put her hands on either side of his face. “No promises until all this is over.” Gendry placed his other hand over hers. “It will just make things harder if one of us dies.”  
“We could be worrying ourselves over nothing. We could all live.”  
“Gods, I hope so.” She said, kissing him, softer than she had all night. “Still, no promises. If we live, we can make all the promises we want.”  
“As my lady commands.”  
He brought his lips down on hers again. She ran her hands along his shoulders as he pulled her closer. The passion that they had felt earlier was returning.  
The sound of the warning horn broke them apart.  
They both knew what it meant. The dead had arrived.


	2. Ch. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry convinces Arya to do things his way for once.

“We could get married.” He had said suddenly as she was lying in his arms one night. She had sprung up so quickly she almost fell from the bed.  
“Why do we need to get married?”  
Gendry had expected her reaction and gave her a shrug with an amused smile.  
“Just seems like the proper thing to do.”  
“Fuck proper,” Arya said, leaving the bed. Gendry propped himself up on his arms and watched her naked form go to the table. She poured herself some wine, gulping it down.  
“You love me don’t you?” She gave him an irritated look and poured herself a second glass.  
“Why do I need to marry you to prove that I love you?” She questioned, waving her glass around. “I let you into my bed, I involve you with my family, you know more about me than my family, except for maybe Sansa. I have let you into my world, into my life. What further proof of my love could some stupid ceremony give you.”  
“It’ll stop all those pompous Lords from going after you.”  
Arya scoffed, “Don’t forget your one of those pompous Lords now, Lord Baratheon.”  
Gendry rolled his eyes at the title but couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at finally having his father’s name. Arya sighed and went back to the bed. She straddled Gendry and let her hands rest on his shoulders.  
“It’s been months, almost a year. Why are you bringing it up now?”  
“Your sister cornered me today,” he admitted.  
“Ugh, I don’t see her marrying Theon. I still don’t quite believe there’s nothing going on, even if he doesn’t have a cock.”  
“He doesn’t have a cock?”  
“You didn’t know that?” Arya laughed at Gendry’s horrified expression.  
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking of it myself.” He said once he got over his shock, “I am supposed to head down to Storm’s End eventually, but I promised I’d never leave your side.”  
“I’d go with you.” She’d said after a moment.  
“What if we have children?” Gendry asked. The subject had never come up, other than the time Arya sent Gendry to get herbs for moon tea as punishment for some idiotic thing he said. Arya climbed off his lap and laid on her back.  
“You want children?”  
Gendry laid on his side next to her. “I wouldn’t mind them. If we do I don’t want them to ever know what it’s like to be called a bastard, and I think you’d be a good mother.”  
“I don’t even know if I could have children,” she said stroking the scars on her stomach. Gendry placed his hand on hers.  
“It’ll be fine if you can’t. But imagine a little boy named after your father.”  
“What if we have girls?” Arya countered.  
“What would you want to name them?”  
“Depends, what were the names of those women you were with before me?”  
Gendry turned red. “Is it bad if I forgot?”  
“You really don’t remember any of their names.”  
“I told you they never meant anything to me.” He explained.  
“You are such a whore.” Arya laughed and swatted his hand away.  
“You’ve consumed my body and soul, Arya Stark.” He deepened his voice to sound like some Lord they had made fun of earlier in the day. “As far as I’m concerned, no others came before you.” He rolled on top of her, keeping his weight on his arms and gave her teasing kisses. Arya accepted his advances before remembering what they were discussing.  
“Gendry, none of it was what I wanted.” she whined as he continued to kiss down her neck.  
“I never wanted to be a wife, or a lady, or a mother. That’s not who I am, I thought you understood that.”  
“I do, Arya I do. But think of it as a challenge. I am not asking you to change who you are, I am asking you to help me change the way things are.” He reasoned. “Our marriage will be between us, no one benefits, except us because we love each other. We can change how to run a household. We can help people. We could raise our children how we want. Let them be who they want to be.”  
Arya stared at the ceiling quietly as Gendry continued to kiss her body. Gendry was beginning to believe he should have thought of a stronger argument.  
“Fine.”  
Gendry raised his head. “Fine?”  
Arya met his eyes. “Fine. I’ll marry you.” Gendry broke into a smile and rose up to kiss her lips.  
“I hope you realize how lucky you are. I swore as child, all over this bloody castle, that I would never get married or anything. This is unbelievable.”  
“I thank you for your sacrifice.”  
“I’ll have children when I feel like I’m ready, even if that means fifteen years from now.” Arya declared between kisses. “I win every argument for the rest of our days.”  
“Yes, my love.”  
Arya yanked his head back to look into his eyes. “And I refuse, refuse, to where some big, gaudy, embroidered, monstrosity of a dress.”  
“Good, some big, gaudy, embroidered, monstrosity of a dress would be too hard to rip off you at the end of the night.”  
“You know I am only doing it to make you happy.”  
“Well, it’s about time we do something my way.” he teased.  
“ But it’s so much better when we do things my way.”  
“This will be good Arya, I promise. We’ll have a good life together. I’ll make you happy, just as happy as you make me.”  
“I know.” She smiled softly.  
“I love you.”  
Arya sighed. Gendry knew she still had trouble saying it back, but whenever she stroked his face the way she was now, he knew she felt the same way.  
“It’s the wine talking, but I love you too.”  
“It’s not even strong wine.”  
“Shut up.”


	3. Ch. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya shares some news with Jon.

Jon had never remembered his sister being so still. As a child, she ran all over the castle, all over Wintertown. She mingled and blended in with the common folk so well that they forgot she was a lady. Now she sat still, cross-legged, in front of the weirwood tree that he used to be afraid of when he was a child. Arya had never been afraid of the face on the tree. She used to have full conversations with that face before she was told the face represented one of the old gods, then she would make faces back at the tree. Arya sat there now, her eyes closed and silent as the face watched her.  
Sansa said she had been acting strange the past few days.  
“She just came back to us Jon, I’m worried.”  
Jon had been ashamed to admit he had spent little to no time with Arya since they reunited. She had been present in war councils and they had fought together in battles. But they had not had a true conversation since the last time they stood in the woods.  
“What do you need, Jon?” Arya broke him away from his thoughts. He had thought he had been quiet coming up the way.  
Jon approached her. “I know we haven’t gotten much time to talk to each other. Everything happened so fast these few months.”  
“Yes, very fast.” she agreed, she kept her eyes closed.  
“It’s all over now, we finally have a moment.” Jon sat next to her, grunting as his bones cracked on the way to the ground.  
Arya smiled, “What an old man.”  
Jon laughed, “I certainly feel old.”  
Arya sighed and finally opened her eyes. She turned to Jon. “How are you doing?”  
Jon took a moment to remember those they had lost. “I’m getting by.”  
“I’m sorry about Daenerys.”  
Jon looked taken aback. “I didn’t think you knew about us.”  
Arya rolled her eyes, “Oh Jon, everyone knew about the two of you, you didn’t keep it a secret.”  
Jon breathed in as a gust of wind blew through the clearing.  
“It would have never worked. It was out of convenience or something.”  
Arya nodded in understanding. “Sansa’s worried for me.”  
“Yeah, she is.”  
“I’ll talk to her.” Arya patted his knee. “How are the two of you getting on?”  
“She’s trying to be supportive,” Jon said. “But really I think she just wants to smack me on the head and tell me to get over it all, already.”  
“No, she’s too bloody proper for that.” Arya jokes.  
“And how have you been doing?” Jon raised his hand to stroke her hair. He noticed she had taken to wearing it down the night after Cersei was killed.  
“I’m getting by.”  
They sat there in front of the weirwood tree, taking in the wind that would blow every few seconds. It reminded Jon of when they all used to lay there with father. All of them would gather around father, Robb, Jon, Arya, Sansa, Bran, Rickon. Sansa would act like Lady Catelyn and sit on a log with Rickon in her lap. The rest of them would run around father as he cleaned his sword, laughing to himself at his children’s antics. They would all run until they fell back, exhausted and laid on the ground and laughed at the shapes of the clouds.  
“So what’s next for you little sister?” Jon said at last with a sigh. He smiled at her, predicting the different answers she would give.  
“I am going to have a baby.”  
Jon’s mind went blank. He leaned back to look at Arya. She gave him a gentle smile. Jon’s eyes left her face and went down to where her hand rested on her stomach.  
“Wh-”  
“I’m pregnant, Jon,” Arya confirmed. Jon continues to stare at Arya’s hand on her stomach. Jon blinked before smiling and placing his hand over hers.  
“You’re pregnant.”  
Arya nodded, laughing at her brother’s awestruck expression.  
Jon almost laughed with joy at the thought of his little sister having a baby. A new Stark baby. A thought struck him suddenly.  
“Wait, who’s the father?”  
“Gendry,” Arya said as if it was obvious.  
“Gendry, wha- The blacksmith.” Jon almost yelled.  
“Yeah, the blacksmith.” Arya rose and dusted the snow off her.  
“When, when did that happen?” Jon asked the most flustered she had ever seen him. She began to walk towards the entrance of the clearing. Jon got up to follow her.  
“The baby happened the night before the dead attacked Winterfell, and Gendry and I had met each other after father died. When you all showed up here we... got to know each other again.”  
Jon scoffed. Arya glared at him. “Hey, it’s not my fault you were oblivious to everything other than the dead and your Dragon queen.”  
“I’m sorry, it’s just. I can’t believe it. I didn’t think you would ever… It’s just a shock is all.”  
“It’s a shock that someone could want a woman like me.”  
Jon’s expression softened, “Arya, no, I just meant it’s hard for me to think of you in love and as a mother. You just grew up so fast and I missed it. I missed all of it.”  
Arya stopped in her path. She turned to face Jon fully.  
Jon smiled, “I just didn’t think it was something you wanted.” Arya’s face was blank.  
“I didn’t want it.” She said, “ I thought about getting rid of it. But I couldn’t do that to Gendry.”  
Jon said nothing else. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her the rest of the way. They made it to the castle and up to the family chambers. Jon stopped in front of Arya’s door.  
“Does Gendry know?”  
“Not yet.”  
Jon bent to look at Arya better, he placed a hand on her shoulder and forced her to look at him.  
“You can do this.”  
“You said yourself I am not the motherly type. Which is why I will let Gendry handle most of it.”  
“I never said that.”  
Arya clenched her jaw and made to open her door.  
“Hey, you are loyal, fiercely protective, patient… at times.”  
Arya cracked a smile. “You will be a good mother. You love and protect your family no matter what. That’s all a mother does.”  
Arya rose on her feet and wrapped her arms around Jon. “Thank you.” Jon hugged her back. The two stayed in the hall outside Arya’s chambers until another thought hit Jon. He broke away from Arya.  
“I have to go.” Arya looked up in confusion. Jon began to walk briskly down the hall.  
“Where are you going?”  
“To the forge.”  
Arya’s eyes widened, “No, Jon!”  
“I am just going to talk to him.”  
“Jon!”


	4. Ch. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya gives birth.

“Everything is fine. Lady Arya is quite small but I see no obvious...complications.”  
“What do you mean ‘obvious’? Is there something you’re worried about?” Gendry towered over the maester.   
Sam stuttered, “No, of course not. It’s just childbirth you know, things happen.”  
“They won’t happen to Arya. She’s strong.” Jon claps Gendry on the shoulder. But the young Lord Baratheon doesn’t look convinced.   
The pains had started early that morning. She had grunted but taken them in stride. She kept saying she read that the pains come when the body was preparing for labor.  
“I’m sure, I’m not actually in labor.” She had said, through gritted teeth.   
When she clutched her stomach and screamed, Gendry had enough. He picked her up and rushed her through Winterfell up to the maester’s tower.   
“It’s not time, yet.” She whined, hitting his chest.   
“The baby seems to think it is.” He shot back.   
Sansa had ushered him out of the room when he began yelling at the maester’s and midwives.   
“She doesn’t need to worry about you, too.” She had said slamming the door in his face. He was going to break it down before Nymeria snapped at him and sat in front of the door. The wolf that, on a normal day was more than fond of him, seemed to think that he would stress out his wife as well.   
“Everyone’s against me.” He muttered to himself.   
Her labor had gone well into the night.   
Sansa opened the door, blood on her hands.   
“We’re almost there but she’s getting tired. She’s asking for you.”  
Gendry rose from his seat on the floor and went in past Nymeria and Sansa. Arya laid there surrounded by blood. Her hair stuck to her forehead, she was drenched in sweat. She looked close to death, and Gendry was sure he had never been more frightened before in his life.   
He remembered a conversation they had not even a week ago.   
“Everyone always compares me to my aunt Lyanna. She died giving birth.”  
Gendry had kissed her. “You’re not your aunt.”  
“Wouldn’t it poetic,” She said crying. “The woman who slew Death dies trying to bring life into the world.”  
Now, Gendry hurried over to take Arya’s outstretched hand.   
“I can’t push anymore, I’m so tired.”  
“Don’t give up,” he urged her. “You’re so close. You said when we got married, that you would choose life. So live. Help our child live. You can do this.”  
He pressed his forehead against hers. Arya breathed in before releasing a scream as she pushed. Gendry sat by her the rest of the time. He could not tell how long. He was sure his hand was broken and his ears rang from her screams. But he kept his head against Arya’s and watched in both fear and awe as she brought their child into the world.   
Arya cried as she grasped onto his shoulders, tearing at his leather jerkin. She groaned and released her hold on him as she fell back onto the bed.   
For a moment he thought the worst, but he took in the way her chest rose and fell in even breaths and realized that she had collapsed in exhaustion.   
He thought for a moment he could distinctly hear the cries of the baby, but he only focused on his wife. She finally opened her eyes and her arms reached out. Gendry looked behind him to see Gilly passing Arya a bundle.   
“Congratulations on your son, my lady.”  
Gendry had laughed. He and Arya had placed bets on whether their child would be a boy or girl. It would seem Gendry had lost.   
He smiled as Arya gazed down in wonder at their son.   
“Oh, my sweet boy.” She whispered tears in her eyes. “You were worth everything.”  
Gendry knew she meant more than just labor and pregnancy.   
She finally looked up again, giving him a glowing smile that took his breath away.   
“Take him, they have to clean me up.”   
Gendry felt nervous. He wiped his hands on his pants before bending down to let Arya place the baby into his arms. Gendry held his breath as he looked into the face of his newborn son. It may have been too early to tell but he could swear that the boy had Arya’s nose. He had small traces of black hair and…  
Gendry laughed, “I’m afraid he might have my ears.”  
Arya gave a tired laugh. “He’ll just have to wear his hair long so they won’t stick out.”   
Sansa came and helped Arya into a chair so that Gilly could change the sheets and she could help Arya change into a clean shift. Gendry stood off to the side, cradling his son. Once Arya settled in bed, he walked over. Arya held out her hands and Gendry gently passed their son over to her again. He sat on the bed so that he could wrap his arms around his wife and son. His family.

“So is he still a Yoren?” Gendry asked.   
Arya tilted her head. “I don’t know. I can’t seem to tell.”   
Sansa sat on a stool on the other side of the bed.   
“What of Eddard, or any of our brother’s names?” She suggested.  
“I do like Rickon,” Arya said after a moment.   
Gendry nodded. “Rickon’s good.”  
“He’ll be just as wild with you as a mother.” Sansa teased her sister.   
“Rickon Baratheon, first of his name. I’ll write the citadel.” Sam said leaving the new parents with their son. Gilly stood at the end of the bed, smiling kindly down at the baby.   
“The first birth is always the hardest.” She said. “The second one gets easier.”  
Arya looked up from her son, shaking her head.   
“Oh, no.” She turned her head to Gendry. “You better cherish this one. I’m not doing that again anytime soon.”  
“Yes, my lady,” Gendry replied, keeping his eyes on their son.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry thinks about Arya as a mother and their life at Storm's End.

It was a thunderclap that had woken him up. It was almost deafening and made the ground rumble. Gendry had been assured that the castle was made to endure these storms but he was still not used to it. He looked over to his wife, who appeared to be sleeping soundly. Another thunderclap sounded that startled Gendry more than the last time.

"It's a bad one." he heard his wife mutter against her pillow.

"Have you been up awhile?" He rolled over, wrapping an arm around her.

"Mmhmm," she groaned and rolled onto her other side to face him.

"I just worry about the baby on nights like this."

Gendry smiled. "Do you want me to get him?"

"No, I already checked on him. He's sleeping soundly."

It had been a year since they arrived at Storm's End and two years since Rickon was born. Ser Davos had been serving as a steward for Storm's End until Arya felt that the baby was ready to be moved. The Stormlands had been surprisingly welcoming. The Lords seemed to be in need of a change of pace that Gendry offered, add to that an alliance with the North and an heir already born. It all made for a mostly easy transition. Ser Davos was already a familiar face, Arya was impressive, to say the least, and Gendry felt accepted by his people. Arya and Gendry quickly became a familiar sight among the common people. They traveled around the villages surrounding Storm's end regularly. It was Arya's idea, really, though they would have done so anyway. She had said as long as they had the love of their people, the lords would have to accept him.

Gendry had laughed at that. For all her talk of never wanting to be a lady or be involved in any of the politics, she had such a keen and diplomatic mind.

"I can't help it," She had said as he teased her. "It's was forced into my head at birth and all the other shit going on, it was impossible not to pick something up."

Gendry had known she was smart when they were on the road. She was quick thinking, could solve problems, knew how to give orders, how to give out threats. When it came to running Storm's End she employed a mixture of her father's skills with Sansa's, it was another face she put on, and she wore it well. Not that anyone could tell her that.

"Well, who else is going to do it then?" She would say. Still, she spent most of her time with the Master of Arms. It was decreed that every child of the Stormlands, once they reached the age of ten, should be training in some capacity, even if it was basic self-defense.

"We may be in times of peace, but future generations need to be ready."

Gendry felt pride every time he looked or even thought of his wife. How she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with him, he would never understand. But to whatever gods looked out for him, he was grateful.

She was quite a force and with their son, she was proving to be a fierce and devoted mother. Something neither of them expected really. Gendry knew she would love their child, but the intensity of a mother's love had struck her so profoundly. He had known of the apprehension she felt during her pregnancy, though she did her best to hide it. She had never really expressed interest in children, alway brushing past the topic. When she was pregnant, she acted as if she wasn't and grew frustrated when someone reminded her of the limits the condition put on her. There was a shift when Rickon began to move inside her, she was more careful, talked about the baby more. It had erased Gendry's worry and when Rickon was born, it was the happiest occasion. Gendry was ashamed of thinking Arya might be a distant mother. It made sense though, Arya did nothing half-way. She loved her family fiercely and for the child, she bore from her own body she would move all seven hells. The first few months at Storm's End, she had his bed placed in their rooms, right next to her. She had her favorite dagger beside her, ready to kill anyone who would try to take her son away from her.

Gendry had finally told her that the child needed time away from them. He needed to learn how to be around other people.

"He's just a baby." She would say.

"They can sense things, Arya." Gendry pleaded. "He can feel your fear. He thinks something is wrong."

Arya had finally relented, but it didn't stop her from sending him out almost every night to bring Rickon to her or going out herself and checking on him.

The storm seemed to be slowing down and Gendry began to feel the heaviness of sleep once again.

"He won't be a baby much longer," Arya muttered. Gendry kissed her hair. "He's growing so fast."

"He's a quick little thing. The septa had trouble keeping up with him this morning."

Arya smiled. "I love the way he walks. He reminds me of a little fox, sneaking around, seeing what he can get into."

"He'll drive us mad. I'm sure." Gendry closed his eyes and nuzzled his face in his wife's hair.

"Are you ready for another one?" Arya asked.

Gendry's eyes snapped open and he sat up. Arya rolled over to face him fully.

"Are you saying I should be ready for another one?"

Arya bit her lip, "Maybe, I haven't gotten sick yet. But I've been tired and my breasts are sore, like the last time."

Gendry looked down at her flat stomach with wide eyes. "Have you bled? I don't think you've bled in awhile." The realization hit him.

Arya shook her head. Gendry placed his hand over her womb. His thumb brushed against one of her scars.

"Do you think it will be a girl this time?" He asked, a small smile growing on his face.

"It'd be nice. One and one." Arya said placing her hand over his.

Gendry thought back to when he was smithing in King's Landing. When he was fifteen before he knew of his father before he met Arya. When he was fifteen, going on sixteen, Ned Stark came to see him. He didn't know why and he didn't really care at the time. Maybe the Hand and the one before him thought he was somebody. Maybe they needed a new smith in the castle. Gendry couldn't believe that it all led to this. About ten years later, he was married to Arya Stark, the daughter of Ned Stark, the woman he loved more than anything. She had given him a son and was pregnant again. When her father came to that forge that day he had nothing but bull helm and no answers for questions about his family.

Now he had everything. His family.


End file.
